I know you guys love these, and I love them just as much. Enjoy, and when I say there is more to come... it's taking all I have not to post new stories while I am finishing the ones I have, but I have 16 new stories waiting for you, so...yeah...
The car hummed along the dark highway as the rain outside blurred the city lights. Mercedes sat silently in the backseat, still shaken from the earlier events. Mitch drove with determined focus, and Sam rode shotgun, his eyes never leaving the rearview mirror.
"By the time we get home, the security team should have finished installing the new cameras and locks," Mitch said, his voice steady despite the tension.
Mercedes frowned, turning her head slightly. "What?"
Mitch glanced back, a grim smile tugging at his lips. "Holy Trinity hired a team to go to the house and take care of it. They're making sure everything's secure. No more surprises."
Before anyone could respond, Mercedes's phone rang—a jarring sound in the otherwise tense quiet. Startled, she flinched and looked down at the screen.
An unknown number was flashing. Sam's eyes narrowed. "Put it on speaker," he nodded, his tone low and urgent.
With trembling fingers, Mercedes activated the speaker. The voice that filled the car was raw and venomous—Will's voice crackled with anger over the line.
"Why did you make me hurt you?" he snarled, his words slurring into a desperate tirade. "Why are you acting like what we had meant nothing? Don't you understand how I feel? How much I love you. Need you!"
Mercedes's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you that I was not, am not into you, Will. I can't make it any clearer than that," she managed to say, her voice small and unsteady.
There was a pause, and then his tone turned chillingly possessive. "Is that man making you say this? I can't believe you let him hit me! He can't have you; I will kill you before I lose you," he threatened, the finality in his voice sending a shiver down her spine.
Before the words could sink in, Sam lunged for the phone. "You sick bastard!" he barked, snatching it from her hand before Mitch could intervene.
"You will never lay another hand on her. I guarantee that." His voice was thick with fury as he cursed at the disembodied voice on the other end. For a moment, there was nothing but static—and then, abruptly, the line went dead.
Mercedes, already on edge, shrank further into herself. She buried her face in her arms, trembling uncontrollably. Sam immediately climbed to the back and wrapped his arms around her protectively.
His eyes darted to Mitch through the rearview mirror—a silent communication passing between them. They both knew the stakes were higher now.
Mitch's jaw set in grim determination as he drove on, every muscle in his body coiled with protective intent. "We're not letting him get away with this," he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else.
Sam nodded, his grip around Mercedes tightening as he whispered, "We'll protect you, no matter what it takes."
In that small, rain-soaked moment on the highway, amidst the chaos of threats and raw emotions, their unspoken promise was clear: Mercedes would never be alone again.
Once they got home and settled Mercedes in her room, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken worry. After a few quiet minutes, Mitch pulled Sam aside in the dim hallway outside Mercedes's room.
"I don't know what to do," Mitch said, frustration and concern mingling in his tone. "I can't go to the game this weekend and leave her like this."
Sam folded his arms, his usual edge softening just a bit. "She needs to get out of town, Mitch. I got an offer to review this cottage B in Savannah. I'm thinking maybe I should take her with me. Will— that bastard—probably thinks she'll still be here, or worse, be at the game with you."
Mitch arched an eyebrow. "That could work, but you know she and you never exactly see eye to eye."
"Look, it's not about personal feelings," Sam replied, his tone firm. "It's about her safety. Plus, the drive to Savannah is practically therapeutic. She likes that kind of long, open road."
They stepped into Mercedes's room, where the soft glow of a bedside lamp lit the space. Mitch sank onto the edge of the bed, still visibly torn. Sam leaned against the wall a few feet away, watching his friend with a mixture of concern and quiet determination.
"I need to talk to you, Merce."
Mercedes, who had been curled up on a chair near the bed, looked at her brother and nodded. "You are going to your game?" She said softly, nodding, because he needed to go.
"I don't want to miss my game," Mitch confessed, running a hand through his hair. "Everyone at Duke is counting on me, but so are you."
"You shouldn't miss the game because of me." She said softly.
Mitch offered a slight, apologetic nod before continuing, "Sam is heading to Savannah for a week or two. I'm thinking, you know, you should go with him for your sake."
Mercedes's eyes widened in incredulous protest. "Um, not that I want to be alone, but we'll kill each other if we go together," she mumbled, half-teasing, half-terrified at the thought of being stuck with Sam on a trip.
Sam smirked, shaking his head. "I'll try my best not to be annoyed by you," he said, the humor in his voice belying the seriousness of the situation.
Mercedes rolled her eyes, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth despite everything. "I'm not sure that's possible," she replied wryly.
"Well, to show that I am here to take care of you, I'm even willing to take a 12-hour drive to Savannah because I know you like that," Sam added, stepping a little closer as if to emphasize his point.
Mercedes glanced over at Mitch, who managed a supportive smile. "I think it's a good idea," Mitch said, his voice softening. "You need to feel safe, and you need to be away from this place. And after this weekend, I'll even join you guys."
Sam moved in closer, his tone lightening further as he teased, "It's all-inclusive, and it'll be fun to have someone else join me on a trip. You can even help me with my article. I am sure you have some insights."
Mercedes couldn't help but laugh despite herself. It felt good to be able to think of something other than Will. "Won't that cut into your booty call times?"
Sam's smirk deepened. "Maybe," he said, his eyes dancing with mischief, "But that just means I have to be extra creative."
It was clear that even with the tension and unspoken fears, their banter served as a brief respite—a promise that even in the midst of chaos, they'd find a way to protect Mercedes and perhaps even learn to live with one another along the way.
Mercedes stood in her softly lit bedroom, carefully folding clothes into a duffel bag as Sebastian leaned casually against the doorframe. He had come to check on her, and his eyes danced with playful mischief as he took in the scene.
"So, you're really going to Savannah with Sam?" Bas teased, an amused smirk tugging at his lips and an eyebrow raised in quiet challenge.
Mercedes paused, glancing at him with a mix of exasperation and amusement. "Stop it, Bas. Nothing is going on between Sam and me," she snapped, though the edge in her voice betrayed a hint of uncertainty. "Really, nothing."
Bas chuckled, leaning forward a little. "Maybe not yet, but who knows?" he replied, his tone light and suggestive.
Mercedes's eyes narrowed playfully as she scoffed, "Oh, come on! Don't start with that nonsense."
Before Bas could protest further, she swiped a soft pillow off the bed and bopped him squarely on the shoulder. The unexpected hit made him laugh, and soon, they both collapsed back onto the bed in a fit of giggles.
Catching her breath, Mercedes's laughter faded into a more vulnerable expression. She turned to Bas, her eyes glistening slightly. "I'm really scared, Bas," she admitted softly. "I mean, leaving now, being alone with Sam, it's... a lot."
Bas's smile softened into something more sincere as he sat up and reached for her hand. "I know," he said gently. "But I honestly think getting away for a while is good for you. It'll give you a break from all this… chaos. And maybe it'll help you not feel so scared."
Mercedes gave a small, uncertain nod. "Maybe… but still, being alone with him… you know how he is," she murmured.
Bas arched an eyebrow and grinned. "Funny you say that because I know you like him. You can't exactly deny it." His tone was teasing yet kind, and despite herself, a small smile tugged at her lips.
Just then, a knock at the door interrupted their banter. The sound drew both of their attention. Sam's voice came through as he peeked in from the doorway, his eyes briefly flicking over the sight of Mercedes and Bas lying on the bed together.
His eyes had an unreadable look for a moment—hard to pin down. Then, as if shaking off whatever it was, Sam cleared his throat and said, "Alright, we're leaving around four in the morning." He gave Mercedes a quick nod before turning and walking away.
Mercedes exhaled deeply as the door closed behind him. "I guess that settles it; this is really happening," she murmured, half-smiling and half-resigned.
Sitting up, she called softly, "Bas, help me finish packing." He nodded and moved to her side, assisting as she gathered her things.
Mercedes walked toward the bathroom to change and grab her toiletries, leaving the room momentarily empty.
Seizing the opportunity, Bas quietly slipped into her room and, with a playful glint in his eye, began replacing her worn pajamas with a set of delicate lingerie he'd found tucked away in her closet. He smirked to himself as he adjusted the garments, murmuring under his breath, "It's for your own good, Merce. You deserve to feel amazing."
The morning light barely broke over the horizon as Sam and Mercedes made their way to the parking garage. Mitch had seen them off earlier, his expression serious as he promised, "I'll join you as soon as the game is over in a few days."
After Mitch gave her a brief, tight hug, she climbed into the passenger seat of Sam's rental. A sleek 2024 black Lincoln Nautilus, while Sam and Mitch hefted Sam's duffel bags and Mercedes suitcases into the trunk.
Before Sam got in, he clapped a hand on Mitch's shoulder. "Don't worry," he said with a quiet intensity, "I'll protect Mercedes like I would protect my own sister."
Mitch shot him a wry look. "Yeah, but she's not your sister—she's mine."
Sam smirked and shook his head. "Even so, I got her. I promise."
They exchanged a brief, brotherly hug before Sam slid into the driver's seat.
The engine purred to life, and soon, the car was gliding away from the penthouse. The interior was filled with silence for a long stretch as the city gave way to the open road.
That silence was broken by the sudden ping of Mercedes's phone. She glanced at the screen and smiled. "It's Jane and Sebastian," she announced softly.
Sam raised an eyebrow, a teasing lilt in his voice. "He can't seem to be without her, huh?"
"What?" Mercedes asked her tone a mix of amusement and confusion.
"Your boyfriend," Sam replied with an annoyed eye roll. "Maybe we should have invited him along."
Mercedes laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, please. You're more Bas's type than mine, though it's nice to see you get a little jealous."
Sam rolled his eyes. "No, I'm not jealous. I was just saying, the man is always around."
"Yeah, because he's my best friend, unlike those women you parade around," Mercedes shot back, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Do you even remember names or just call them 'babe' or 'sweetie'?"
The car fell quiet again as Sam shook his head, and the teasing banter slowly faded into comfortable silence.
They pulled over for a quick stop to refuel and grab some snacks, and while stretching his legs near a small diner, Sam leaned over and said in a low tone, "Look, I know we don't always get along—but for now, let's call a truce. I need to protect you, and we need to stick together until this mess is settled."
Mercedes shrugged, half-smiling. "Fine," she agreed, though there was a note of resignation in her voice. "Truce."
Twelve hours later, the Lincoln Nautilus rolled up to a stately three-story home in Savannah, Georgia, a cherished Hart family property and a local town staple.
Sam pulled up the driveway and helped Mercedes out of the car, rolling out her suitcases and his bags as they approached the front door.
Inside, a friendly receptionist greeted them, cheerfully welcoming them to the B & B.
Sam nodded. "We have a reservation under Evans."
The woman's eyes lit up as she smiled warmly. "Ah, newlyweds, I presume? Seeing such lovely couples come to our humble place warms my heart. And you two make such a beautiful couple." she said. "Let me upgrade you to our honeymoon suite—free of charge."
Quick to cover his true purpose, Sam forced a grateful smile and said, "Thank you." As he pulled Mercedes close in a swift, protective embrace, he whispered, "We can't blow my cover."
Mercedes nodded in agreement; if anyone knew they were there to review the B , the guests might act differently. And it could be fun to forget her issues and just roleplay for a bit.
The receptionist called over her son, Joe, who escorted them down a hallway to an elegant suite. The room took Mercedes's breath away: solid oak dark wood accents, a sprawling California king bed, a 50-inch flat screen mounted above a sleek fireplace, two chaise chairs in neutral tones, a mini-fridge tucked into a corner, and a small breakfast bar that hinted at intimate mornings. The picture was completed with a two-person table with chairs and a cozy reading nook by the window.
Mercedes wandered into the adjoining bathroom and gasped at the sight—a spacious haven featuring a Jacuzzi tub, a tall, multi-person shower, a double sink, and a chic middle vanity that made the space feel undeniably luxurious.
Sam smiled as he watched her take in every detail. "What do you think?" he asked.
"It's exactly what I'd expect from a honeymoon suite: beautiful and spacious. It's perfect for people who just want to be with each other," Mercedes replied softly.
Sam's eyes twinkled as he stepped a little closer. "So while we're here, care to keep the ruse up? It'll help with my article."
Mercedes stared at him, surprise and amusement mingling in her gaze. "You just want to kiss me, don't you?" she teased.
Sam laughed, shaking his head. He was glad to see the weight she had been carrying lessen. "No, I don't. But now that you mention it, we may have to kiss to pull this off."
Her eyes widened as he closed the distance between them. "We're supposed to be newlyweds, Merce. And if we play it right, we get to enjoy a lot of free things," he said in a conspiratorial whisper.
"What do you mean?" she asked, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"I wasn't sure what my angle was going to be here, but I think now I know what it should be," Sam explained, his voice lightening with the thrill of the ruse. "Pretending to be married might just give me the perfect story—and some perks."
Mercedes laughed. "Pretending to be married is going to cost you dates," she quipped.
Sam grinned. "So what? I'll survive."
"Fine," Mercedes said with mock resignation. "I'll play along, but people might not believe you kissing me."
"You don't think so?" Sam's playful challenge hung in the air as he teased, "Then we should practice." For a long moment, the suite's luxurious quiet wrapped around them. Mercedes hesitated, her eyes darting nervously from his eyes to his lips.
With a nervous flutter, she stepped back slightly, as if trying to put space between them. But Sam, emboldened by the moment and the absurdity of their ruse, stepped forward and gently cupped her face in his hand. His touch was tender yet insistent, and both felt the weight of their vulnerability instantly.
Sam's eyes searched hers, and he let out a soft sigh. "Just say the word, and we can not do this," he murmured his tone a mix of nervousness and sincerity.
Mercedes's breath caught. After a pause that stretched between them, she whispered, "No, you're right…we already told them, so let's do it." Her words were tentative, but they carried a spark of resolve.
Sam's lips curved into a gentle smile as he nodded. Leaning in, he pressed a soft, exploratory kiss against her lips, nipping them lightly, a playful gesture that made her gulp and shudder involuntarily. For a moment, he held her gaze, silently gauging her reaction, then, as if the world had slowed for just that heartbeat, Sam deepened the kiss, his expression earnest and full of quiet promise.
In that intimate moment, nerves and uncertainty intermingling with excitement, both realized that the charade might be nothing more than a ruse—but perhaps, just maybe, it could lead to something real.